Page 116 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

Even though I’m home,I still feel raw, like a wound that hasn’t fully closed. The silence of the room presses on my chest, broken only by the soft ticking of the clock and my unsteady breathing.

Cool night air drifts through the cracked window, raising goosebumps on my arms and carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the garden below. The moonlight filters through the curtains, casting ethereal patterns on the hardwood floor.

“Guys?” I call, surprised by the steadiness in my voice. “I need you in here. All of you.”

As they enter, relief and anxiety war within me. Part of me wants to push them away to prove I’m strong enough to handle this on my own, but a larger part, the part that’s been aching for their presence, wins. I need them, and for once, I’m not ashamed to admit it.

The door opens with a soft creak, and my alphas enter. Their concern is evident in every line of their bodies as they move toward me. Their scents intensify, and the air thickens with their presence, making my head spin.

Malachi approaches first. The soft rustle of his clothes as he moves is oddly comforting.

“What do you need, love?” he asks gently, his eyes searching mine. The deep timbre of his voice sends a comforting vibration through my chest, and I can smell the faint trace of his favorite coffee on his breath.

I bite my lip, tasting the lingering mint of my toothpaste, feeling vulnerable but determined. “I don’t want to be alone. Stay with me. Please.”

There’s no hesitation. Zane starts arranging pillows and blankets into a cozy nest on the floor, the soft rustle of fabric filling the air. The scent of fresh laundry wafts up as he fluffs the pillows. Quinn dims the lights to a soft, warm glow that bathes the room in a comforting amber hue, the shadows softening and blurring the edges of everything. Dash grabs extra blankets, his usual playful energy muted by gentle tenderness.

As they move around, setting up the nest, I watch them with a mix of love and gratitude. These men have been my rock through every storm, and now they are here, ready to help me piece myself back together.

“Come on, sparkles,” Dash says, his eyes twinkling with a hint of his usual mischief. “Your throne awaits, and may I say, it’s a masterpiece of comfort engineering.”

I manage a small smile at his attempt at humor and slide down into the soft blankets. The plush fabric envelops me, cool at first but quickly warming from my body heat. Their scents wrap around me like a shield against the lingering darkness, each breath filling my lungs with the comforting aroma of home and safety.

“You know,” Quinn muses as he settles beside me, the warmth of his body a comforting presence against my side, “studies show that physical proximity increases oxytocin levels, which promotes bonding. So this nest? It isn’t just cozy, it’s scientifically proven therapy.”

I can’t help but let out a small chuckle, the sound surprising me with its lightness. “Leave it to you to turn cuddling into a science experiment, Quinn.”

Malachi settles behind me, his strong arms encircling my waist in a gentle but protective hold. The heat of his body seeps into my back, chasing away the chill that’s seemed to linger in my bones since my rescue. I feel the soft rise and fall of his chest against my back, his heartbeat a steady, reassuring rhythm. Zane flanks my other side, his presence intense and grounding. The calluses on his hands catch slightly on the soft fabric of my pajamas as he pulls me close. Dash stretches out at my feet, his hand resting lightly on my ankle—a steady, grounding presence.

For a moment, panic flares in my chest, memories of my captivity clawing at my mind. The dark, damp smell of the warehouse threatens to overwhelm me, my heart racing as if I’m back there, but then Zane’s fingers gently intertwine with mine, the calluses on his palm a familiar texture against my skin. Quinn’s thumb traces calming circles on my shoulder, the repetitive motion soothing my frayed nerves. I focus on their touches, their unwavering support, and slowly, the fear begins to ebb.

“We’ve got you,” Malachi murmurs into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. His voice is a soothing balm, deep and steady. “You’re safe now. Nothing can harm you here.”

I lean back into his chest, exhaling a shaky breath. The tension in my muscles begins to unwind, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. “I was so scared,” I whisper, finally letting the words spill out. They taste bitter on my tongue, but it’s a relief to voice them. “I thought… I thought I’d never see you again.”

“We were terrified too,” Quinn admits, his voice catching with the weight of his own fear. His fingers tighten on my shoulder, as if he’s reassuring himself that I’m really here. “The thought of losing you… It was unbearable.”

Dash’s expression softens, his usual lightheartedness replaced by something more solemn. “But you’re here now, sparkles. You’re home, and we’re never letting you go again.” His thumb rubs soothing circles on my ankle.

Their words, touch, and unwavering presence all start to chip away at the walls I’ve built around myself since my rescue. Tears spill down my cheeks, hot and salty, but they are tears of release, of relief. The knot in my chest loosens, allowing me to take a deep, shuddering breath.

Surrounded by their warmth, their scents, and their unwavering support, I feel something inside me start to heal. The broken pieces of myself that I’ve been desperately trying to hold together begin to mend. I’m not fixed, but for the first time since my rescue, I feel like I might be okay someday.

“I love you,” I say through the sobs, looking at each of them in turn. My voice cracks with emotion, but the words ring true. “All of you. So much.”

They respond with gentle touches, pressing soft kisses to my hair, my cheeks, and my hands. Their love flows through the bond we share, warm and unbreakable, and I feel it deep in my bones. It’s like a physical sensation, a warmth that spreads from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes.

As the night progresses, the atmosphere in the room shifts. The air grows thick with tension, not just from our combined scents, but from the unspoken desires simmering beneath the surface. The soft rustle of fabric becomes more pronounced as hands begin to wander. Gentle kisses turn more passionate, our breaths becoming heavier and more ragged.

Malachi’s lips find mine, his kiss urgent and deep, as if he’s been craving this moment for an eternity. His hands roam over my body, setting every nerve ending ablaze with a desire that seems to consume us both. Zane’s mouth trails down my neck, nipping the sensitive skin, drawing out a soft gasp fromdeep within me. His fingers trace the curve of my hips, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through my veins.

Almost simultaneously, Quinn’s warm breath tickles my ear as he whispers, “You’re so beautiful, so perfect.” His voice is a low, sultry murmur that makes my heart race. His hands cup my breasts gently, his thumbs circling the hard peaks with a delicate precision that leaves me yearning for more. “I could spend forever just like this with you,” he continues. The combination of their touches and caresses ignites a fire within me, a hunger that I never knew existed until now. Every touch, every whisper, and every kiss are promises of something more intense, more electrifying, and more overwhelmingly beautiful.

I gasp as I feel another pair of hands, those belonging to Dash, slide up my inner thighs. His touch is gentle yet assertive, sending shivers of anticipation through me. He teases me, his fingers tracing intricate patterns that ignite a fire within, making my body ache for more with each delicate stroke. His touch is both a comfort and a torment, awakening desires I’ve long kept hidden.

“Are you sure?” Malachi whispers, his voice husky with desire but tinged with concern. His hands pause at the hem of my shirt, the warmth of his skin radiating through the thin fabric. I can feel the tension in his body, a mix of restrained passion and genuine care. His gaze meets mine, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt, ready to pull back if I signal even the slightest uncertainty. The air between us is charged with anticipation, the moment stretching as if time itself is holding its breath, awaiting my response.

I nod, my own desire building, chasing away the last vestiges of fear and doubt. “I’m sure,” I whisper. “I need this. I need you. All of you.”

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